


night terrors.

by starsandskies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, Fallen!Castiel, Human!Castiel - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsandskies/pseuds/starsandskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has a nightmare and Castiel comforts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	night terrors.

Dean stood face-to-face with a carbon copy of himself. Those same eyes were dark and his hair was matted with dirt and blood that trickled down the side of his face, seeping into his clothes, under his skin and into his bones.

Castiel, Jo, Sammy, John.

_I let them down._

_It’s my fault._

_I let them all die._

_I let go of his hand._

You let them all down because that’s who you are, Dean. You had a hand in all of their downfalls: you forced Sam to hunt, you didn’t protect Dad, you let the hellhounds kill Jo and you let go of your angel’s hand. He fell because of _you_ , Dean! He lost his wings because of you, he cried for days because he’d lost his grace and that was all your fault. You’ve let everybody die and even if they smile at you and tell you it’s not your fault, it is. They walk around aimlessly because they’re dead inside.

Dean Winchester, you don’t deserve to be alive. You are broken and worthless and ninety percent crap. You didn’t deserve to be saved, you are empty inside. Imagine all those people who would still be alive if you weren’t saved, you’ve got blood on your hands. How many people have you killed? How many times have you been behind the trigger? You’ve put Sammy in danger so many times and you’ve ruined your angel. He’s never going to be the same again. No, he’s beyond repair.

What, you think a few drinks will take away the pain? You think people don’t see you when you’re drunk and angry and slurring your words? They _see,_ Dean. They see you as the pathetic alcoholic that you are but guess what? They don’t care. A quick, cheap fuck and a bottle of whiskey is all you know, all you’re worth. Look at you, you’re useless. Full of self-pity and booze and filth. You’re never going to be whole again, you don’t deserve to be.

The image morphed into a bloodied Castiel who touched the handprint that was branded onto Dean’s shoulder, his blue eyes searching the hunter’s face, his gaze steely. His skin was mottled with purple bruises and a cut ran from

“You did this to me, Dean,” Castiel’s voice was gravelly, raw. “You made me like this and I should never have saved you from Hell.” The angel was suddenly wrenched backwards; flames licking at his feet, setting his trench coat alight with oranges and reds. “Dean!  No, please, Dean!”

-

“Dean, wake up. Come on, Dean.”

The hunter woke up with a start, his head pounding and his breathing heavy. He looked around frantically, blinking away the terrors inside his head, trying to make the images engraved on the back of his eyelids go away.

“Dean,” a soothing voice cut into his thoughts, breaking him out of his reverie.

It took him a while to acknowledge that where he was was real and his breathing evened out when he finally turned to look at Castiel. His eyes watered no matter how hard he tried to fight the stupid, stupid tears back.

“You were talking in your sleep, Dean. You sounded…upset,” Castiel smoothed a hand down Dean’s cheek gently but the hunter caught it and squeezed it gently.

“You’re okay, Cas. You’re real,” Dean sighed in relief, carbon copies of himself flashing across his eyes.

“Yes, I’m right here. Dean, you had a nightmare,” the former angel frowned, his face darkening as Dean’s voice rang in his ears. The things he was saying, the way he was shouting – it wounded him.

Castiel looked up at the hunter and noticed the way he was shaking and the way his eyes were pained. He decided to take matters into his own hands as he moved onto Dean’s lap. He nestled himself against his chest, wrapping his arms around the hunter’s waist tightly and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“Oh, Cas,” Dean’s voice was raw as he clutched onto the fabric of Castiel’s shirt. Tears threatened to fall but he bit them back, swallowing the painful lump in his throat.

“Don’t be scared, it’s not real whatever it was. It’s okay,” Castiel comforted, his hands lightly trailing up and down Dean’s back.

“You regret it?” the hunter began, swiping at a tear that managed to escape.

“What?” the older man drew back as he stared into those green eyes that were usually so bright. But now, they were desperate and glistening with unshed tears.

“Saving me.”

“Never,” Castiel gently ran his thumb under Dean’s eye, wiping away the tears that were falling silently. “When I saw you in Hell, I saw your soul. And your soul shined brighter than any other human I’d ever seen. You are _not_ broken, Dean. You are fragile but never broken. Don’t you dare blame yourself for things that weren’t your fault; you did the best with what you had and you’ve saved so many people. I have never regretted saving you or rebelling for you or..,” his voice became softer, “falling.”

The was enough to push Dean over the edge as he finally let go, his tears falling down his face thick and fast, his body drawing in on itself instinctively. He was never one to cry in the company of others.

“No,” Castiel muttered, pulling the hunter into his arms, running one hand through his hair while the other one closed around the back of his neck. He stayed silent even though every cry that escaped Dean’s lips made him wince.

“I’m sorry,” Dean choked out, his voice muffled by the older man’s t-shirt.

“You’re not broken, Dean. You’re not broken,” Castiel repeated this over and over again, like a mantra, as he rocked the hunter back and forth slowly.

As Dean’s crying quieted down, so did Castiel’s voice. The hunter looked up at him through wet eyelashes and sniffed, the look on his face melting the former angel’s heart. He noticed that he’d left damp patches on his shirt and his cheeks reddened, “I didn’t mean to –”

“I don’t care,” Castiel smiled gently. The last of the tears escaped the hunter’s eyes and Castiel kissed them away, his lips lingering for longer each time. “You have no idea, do you?”

“About what?” Dean’s voice wavered as he sat on the bed with the former angel in his lap, all cried out.

Castiel smiled softly as he placed a chaste kiss on the hunter’s mouth before dragging his lips across his jaw, lightly nipping at the skin as Dean’s stubble prickled his face. He drew back to look into his emerald eyes, “you’re more than all the mistakes you’ve made, Dean. And I might not be an angel but I can still feel this,” Castiel placed a hand on the hunter’s heart, “and as long as that’s still beating, you’ll always find your way back to me.”

Dean wet his lips subconsciously, his eyes trailing down Castiel’s face, lingering on his mouth for a brief moment before green returned to bright blue. “God, Cas. I don’t know what to say or how –”

“And I-I love you,” Castiel whispered before quickly averting his gaze, not knowing how he was going to react.

The hunter blinked a few times as he just stared at Castiel, his heart pounding and his head spinning. Those words had never passed either of their lips because they just _knew_ but hearing them out loud was different. It was a promise, a _lifeline_. Dean cupped the older man’s face and felt a familiar tug at his heart. “You’re the only person apart from Mom who can make me believe that.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, too,” said Dean, the words feeling heavy on his tongue.

Castiel sighed in content and felt warmth radiate through his body, starting in his chest and leaving his fingertips. Dean kissed him earnestly, his hands tugging at the other man’s hair, his lips burning around Castiel’s.

The way they loved each other was different. It was destructive and damaging but that was the only way they knew how. Dean felt Castiel under his skin; his words cracked his bones and his secrets spilled with ease. Cas’ eyes split the hunter’s skin open, searching every single part of him like he could see into his troubled mind, see the things he’d done, the things he was ashamed of. His hands honoured him, savoured every part of him while his mouth swallowed Dean’s words, taking in every thought as if they were his own.

The hunter pressed his forehead against Castiel’s and smiled, memories of his nightmare fading fast. “You look tired,” he mused.

“It’s three in the morning, Dean,” the former angel chuckled lightly.

“Mhm, sorry about that.”

“Let’s just go to sleep,” Castiel suggested, moving off Dean’s lap and lying down next to him. “Are you okay?”

Dean looked at him and kissed his forehead, nodding. He lay on his side and pulled Castiel closer, wrapping an arm around his stomach. The former angel rested his head against Dean’s chest and closed his eyes, Dean’s heartbeat steady and calm.

_You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be,  
And I don’t want to go home right now._

Castiel truly believed that Dean was beautiful. He put on a front and acted like everything was okay even if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders but Castiel saw through it, saw the pain behind those emerald eyes, the worry on his face. But it didn’t _matter_ because Dean Winchester was worth it all; he was worth the bloodshed and the destruction.

Dean was _worthy_.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics in italics - Iris by Goo Goo Dolls.


End file.
